Waiting for Baby Bird

Am I Not Good Enough for a Baby, God?

am-i-not-good-enough-for-a-baby-godYesterday I saw her. She was standing to my left, two rows up with her hands raised in worship; her beautiful pregnant belly slightly peeking out. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else in that moment because once I noticed her silhouette in the darkness among the stage lights, questions swirled around in my head like a tornado. Questions like…

What about me, Lord?

Am I not good enough? 

Is my faith not strong enough?

Or is it my worship?

Perhaps it’s my prayers?

Maybe it’s because you do not see me as being a loving mother?

Standing there numb, unable to sing, let alone lift my hands in worship, I remembered powerful words spoken once by a friend. She said, “Jealousy is a symptom from a lack of faith. It is the belief that God is not big enough to use both of us and His plan isn’t big enough to need both of us. Jealousy is just the belief that God doesn’t really love me as much as He loves them. Jealousy is just a feeling of unworthiness. And jealousy is rooted in a lie.”

In that moment, I believed that I was not good enough. And that she was loved more. Worth more. Heard more.

But my friend was and is right. Because as I continued to watch her worship, I remembered a time when I was a school counselor. The teenagers I mentored would do this very thing that I was doing and it would drive me crazy. It would always start when I would tell one student that they were doing a great job, but a few desks over another student would shout out, “But what about me, Mrs. Kearns?” The obvious answer was, “Yes”, I was proud of their hard work as well. But because I took a moment to affirm one student and didn’t say the same words to another… at the exact same time…they assumed I didn’t feel the same way about them. Or that I was not going to turn to them and say it at all.

And as much as I wished my students wouldn’t do this, I realized I was doing the same thing. I saw someone with something I thought I also deserved and began to question my worth and God’s love for me too.

But the truth is this, friends. I am not less than her. And God? He is not a respecter of persons (Rom 2:11). He has an endless supply of love, power, mercy and grace for our lives and just because someone else is hearing the words or receiving the gift or standing in the promise that we so desperately desire for our lives, it does not mean that He will not say, or give, or provide for me and you too. He is not going to run out of “Yes’s” before He gets to us! He’s not going to turn His back and not fulfill the desires He has placed in our hearts. And He is not going to run out of time and make it too late for it to happen either. For His plans are perfect, His word is true, and His timing is impeccable.

Sweet friend, I know it’s hard, but let’s allow the moments when others around us are being blessed increase our faith rather than tear it down. Let’s allow it to build our hope and change our perspective to believe in confidence that if God desires to bless them, then we can be certain that He desires to not just bless us, but bless us according to His word; which is exceedingly and abundantly above all we could ever hope for, dream of or begin to imagine.

“For God does not show favoritism.”  ~ Romans 2:11

“So get rid of all evil behavior. Be done with all deceit, hypocrisy, jealousy, and all unkind speech.” ~ 1 Peter 2:1

“A heart at peace gives life to the body, but envy rots the bones.” ~Proverbs 14:30

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us,” ~Ephesians 3:20


With Love

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Waiting for Baby Bird

An Open Letter to My Fertile Family

An open letter to my fertile family

As we all gathered together around a cozy campfire to devour our roasted hot dogs, bowls of chili, and mounds of pasta salad, I could hear to the left of me talk of a nursery and the upcoming baby shower. Directly behind me I overheard someone discuss the struggles and joys of going from one child to two. To the right were your precious three and four-year old’s giggling together while you tried to bribe them into eating something other than their mouth-watering sugar cookie. And as I sat there, slowly eating my hotdog and listening to everyone’s conversation, I found myself going in and out of a trance as I watched my beautiful sister-in-law, unknowingly rub her amazingly cute baby bump.

And with all that was going on around me, I could not help but take notice that every one of you is–well, very much fertile. So as I continued to scan the yard and listen to your conversations, a part of me wanted to be so green with jealousy as conceiving seems to come easy and natural to all of you. And another part of me wanted to run and hide as I felt shame. Even embarrassment. Because my mind kept going towards the thought that maybe I have done something wrong to deserve this. Or that I am not deemed worthy or good enough to be a mother. Because why else am I so different from the rest of you? Why else am I having so much trouble?

It is usually in these moments when I feel jealousy, bitterness, anger, and shame that I want to retreat and feel sorry for myself. I want to crawl under the covers and bury my face into the pillows. Or be alone as I take a long hot shower and let the tears pour down my face. And on that particular day, it was no different. I wanted to leave. The empty field behind me and the woods before me looked inviting. And as difficult as this is to admit, I shamefully remember at one particular moment, where I wanted to just jump up and scream before running off, “Would you please stop having babies!”

Goodness, I felt so guilty. Because it’s easy to get upset and not even feel the slightest bit of guilt when you see a pregnant woman who doesn’t value their pregnancy. But to have anger? And jealousy? And bitterness (even for a second) overflow to you–my family memberswho I know have as much right to a child and who will cherish each one God gives you, was disturbing for me. After all, you are the people I love the most. You are my brother, my sister-in-law, my cousins, my aunts and uncles. You are my flesh and blood.

And believe it or not, most days walking through infertility or being around others who are experiencing the joys of parenting isn’t this hard.  It’s not always on my mind. Or a thought in my head. Honestly, it’s not.  And when it is?  It is usually just a hope-filled thought of “not yet” or “someday it will be my turn.” But then there are days like that one at the cookout. Days and events when I am surrounded by hundreds of moments that remind me of what I am not.  And I feel alone. I feel different. I feel insecure. And I believe the lie that I am an outcast. A leper, that no one, and I mean no one understands or that anyone seems to truly care about the struggles my husband and I are going through.

But deep down I know that’s not the case. It’s simply not true.

Because each of you know my struggle to conceive and all of you are compassionate towards our situation.  In fact, I couldn’t ask for a better family that is as loving and supportive as you are to me. Not every family will send cards and text messages offering encouragement. But you do. And so I know without a shadow of a doubt that none of you would do or say anything to intentionally cause me more pain. So please forgive me for those moments when I forget that your conversations about children and pregnancies are natural and normal. And please extend to me grace when I lose myself for a moment and become jealous of this season of life you are in. I don’t mean to. Honest, I don’t.

But sometimes, there are days that are just harder than others. 

Because the grief I experience over my circumstances can best be described like the rain. On some days, it’s like a light midst or sometimes sprinkle. While others days, the grief comes pouring down on me like a quick, unexpected afternoon rain storm. And when this happens, my emotions take over and I get swept away.

I didn’t expect the grief to come and sweep me away that day. Like I said, infertility was something I thought I had come to peace with. You know, a mist. Or at best, a light sprinkle. But the shame, the embarrassment, the insecurity, and the awareness that I am different, all surfaced; much like that unexpected afternoon storm. None of you noticed though, right? Or at least I hope you didn’t. Because after four years of this war against infertility, I have learned to come prepared for these storms that rage within myself. I have learned to carry around an umbrella as I find refuge in the hope that this isn’t the end of my story. The curtain hasn’t closed. And God has a purpose and a plan for my long path to parenthood. I have learned to lean on Him during these moments, rather than pull back or run to the woods. I’ve learned to whisper His name, instead words of envy. And most of all, I have learned that when the rain comes, to just dance in it.

So to my family members who continue to grow effortlessly and I continue to struggle, I want you to know that while there will always be conversations that might cause a “sting,” I still want to hear you talk about them. I still want to watch you rub your belly, discuss your nursery plans, or talk about the struggles of parenting. This is your life right now. This is the beautiful season you are in, and I wouldn’t want myself or anyone else to miss out on a single second of it. So please, don’t worry about me. I’m okay. No really, I am. I’ve got my umbrella and hopefully, some awesome dancing moves.

With all my love,

Kennedy's partyElisha

If you are struggling with infertility, I encourage you to write your own letter to your family members. Let them in on the struggles you face. The feelings you have. And the pain you feel. Just make sure you do it in love and with grace.

I would love to connect with you on a personal level, so if you liked this post, pass it on.Then come find Waiting for Baby Bird on the public Facebook page or join me on Instagram @waitingforbabybird. I can’t wait to “meet” you!If you are looking for a faith-based infertility community of other women who just “get it”, then head over to the *PRIVATE* Waiting for Baby Bird Support group for hope + encouragement. There you will find opportunities to ask for prayer, watch *LIVE* encouragement videos from me, author of “Waiting for Baby Bird,” enter into exclusive giveaways, as well as be able to share your heart with others on the same path, and so much more! So what are you waiting for? Find us here!

Soul Food



“Sometimes you compare your journey with those of your friends, family members, or even strangers who seem to be on easier paths.  But you cannot fully comprehend the problems they face.  Nor do you know what the future holds for them.  Remember My response to Simon Peter when he asked about My dealings with John:  “What is that to you?  You follow me!”

~Jesus Today by Sarah Young

Comparison truly is an ugly thing.  It replaces your happiness and joy with bitterness, jealously, envy, and hopelessness as we only begin to start seeing what other people have that we want.  We think they have it all together–perfect familyperfect financesperfect relationships–perfect health–perfect body–perfect home, but we truly don’t know the problems they face or the future that awaits them.

Years ago when I was a counselor for middle school students, I would often hear on a daily basis, But, what about me?” or “Why does she… or Why does he…”  It annoyed me because I would often think, “What does it matter to you?” and so my answer back was always, “You take care of you and let me worry about it.”  I can’t help but think how similar God’s response to us must be when we start comparing, complaining, and contrasting our lives with others.  I believe He is also saying,  “You take care of you by keeping your eyes on Me and let Me worry about what it is that you want and need.”